I'm at war in myself,

a war you don't see

because it's in my ribcage.

I believe what I said

and know how I meant it,

yet I want to take it back

because you don't like it.

Life isn't all tough leather and

old nails.

I want to see you happy

and the fuzzier part of my

soul or mammal instinct

almost wants to cry at the

suggestion I've made something

difficult for you.

And of course I am strangely afraid

of losing your good graces,

which are good and have grace

and are usually graceful.

So—do I take it back?

Apologize?

Do I say

I was giving you a hard time?

It should be easy, but it isn't

because my heart is more involved

than I would have asked it to be.